Get in the Spirit
by trek-grrrl
Summary: The ep The Beast in the Black, from Bill's POV. How did he and Sheila wrangle for control of his body? What was he thinking and feeling? Find out. Rated for language. Complete. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

(A/N: I highly recommend that you watch "The Beast in the Black" before reading this, or you won't know what's going on. It's the one where an evil woman's spirit possesses Bill when he "dies" for a quick second, after a chandelier falls on him in an old run-down house the woman's stuck in. This story begins where the ep ended, after they've broken through from the Black, and after Bill's broken his arm.)

Chapter One.

"Bill, hang on a little longer, we're almost to the hospital," Ralph Hinkley told his friend and partner, Bill Maxwell.

The pain was searing and throbbing, Bill was mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically exhausted, and all he wanted to do was crawl under some rock in the desert and die. All he could answer aloud was a moan.

"I know, partner, I know. If what I had on the other side was any indication of what you're going through, I feel for ya, Bill."

Ralph was doing his best to soothe his friend after the ordeal they'd been through to oust Sheila Redman from Bill's mind and body.

Another moan was all Bill could say.

As Ralph pulled into the parking lot of the emergency room, for the third time in two days, he was already working out their story in his head.

"Okay, we were playing football... no, that won't work, not if you were just in with a head injury. Um, let's see... how'd you break your arm, Bill?"

Bill was thinking furiously, grasping on anything to occupy his mind with something besides driving pain.

"I, um... I got dizzy from the head injury and took a dive off the concrete steps."

Did he manage to grunt that out, aloud?

"Yeah, yeah, that'll satisfy the doc if he's there, again, like he was the other two times. I can't believe of all the doctors in this big hospital, we keep getting him. He's going to think we're a couple of freaks or something."

Bill laughed. "Yeah, I think he does all ready, just from the first visit with you. Didn't you hear him? 'Wild dogs' he scoffed at me, as he left the room. He didn't believe us then, or when I was in there, and he won't now, I'm sure."

The two men were getting all too familiar with the ER routine, so they got checked in and took their usual seats by the TV set. Ralph was glad to see they had the sports highlights on; Bill loved sports and it would be a great distraction for him until they could get him some relief.

Within the hour, they heard Bill's name called.

"William Maxwell," a nurse said from the high archway that led to the examination rooms.

The two stood and followed her in. The nurse looked curiously at Ralph, wondering why he was there, but since the patient didn't protest, neither did she. She went about her nursely routine, checking Bill's pulse, temperature and blood pressure, and handed him a cushion on which to rest his broken arm.

Ralph and Bill talked quietly, hammering out the remaining details of Bill's little "accident." They heard a tap on the door, and sure enough, the doctor who'd seen them both previously entered the room.

"Oh, no," he exclaimed, rolling his eyes heavenward as if in appeal. "You two again? What is it this time? Or should I ask?"

Bill chuckled and shook his head, motioning to Ralph to pick up the story this time.

"Well, doc, you were right, Bill left too soon. He got up to get the newspaper this morning and when he bent over, the dizziness made him lose his balance and he took a header, right off the concrete porch."

The doctor looked at Ralph for a few moments, not saying a word.

Finally, he said, "And you just happened to be there when this happened, right?"

Ralph cleared his throat, blushing. He wasn't stupid: he knew what the doctor was insinuating. "Um, I was, actually." He paused also. "Does it matter, any way?"

Ralph was getting rather angry at the doctor's attitude.

"Look, he's an FBI agent. I'm his friend and we work out some things together sometimes, to get bad guys off the streets. So we hang out a lot. Is there a problem with that, Doctor?"

The young doctor knew he'd pushed these two enough with his commentary. Okay, he was there to treat the guy. It wasn't work-related, so he didn't have to deal with the federal government in that regard. He'd fix the guy's arm and hope he never saw either of them again.

"No, not at all."

He went to Bill, did a preliminary examination, and when Bill howled with pain, almost passing out, the doctor was remarkably kind.

"Mr. Maxwell, we're going to get you something for that pain so we can finish the examination. Is that a problem, with you being a Federal agent and all?"

Bill clutched his arm to him, supporting it. "No, no, not at all, but thanks for checkin' any way, that's always a good idea. Nope, simple tumble, and snap! Like a twig!"

The doctor's cynical side broke through briefly as he went to the door to fetch the pain killing medication. "Well, Mr. Maxwell, next time heed the doctor's advice, and stay at the hospital when you're told to! I'll be right back."

He was back within a few minutes, and gave Bill the injection in his good arm.

"There you go, Mr. Maxwell. In about five minutes, the pain should be blocked enough so that I can finish my examination."

"All righty, I'll be here, practicing my tennis backhand!"

As the minutes ticked away, both Ralph and Bill could tell it was going to Bill's head. He was getting light-headed, almost as if he were floating above the table. Something clicked, and Bill's sense of reality shifted, and he was out of it. Any sense of control he had over his conscious thought and speech was gone.

"Ooh, hey, Ralphie, how's it goin', pal?" Bill chuckled, trying to sit up. For some reason, he couldn't get both of his arms to work. He looked down at his broken arm, lying limp at his side.

"Hmmm, why can't I move my arm?"

"It's broken, Bill, that's why you're in the hospital."

"I'm in the HOSPITAL?" Bill exclaimed, looking around as if he was only now aware of his surroundings.

Ralph laughed at the goofy expression on his older friend's face. "Yep, second visit in about two days. Pretty good, huh?"

"Second... OH YEAH, I remember, I was here a coupla nights ago, wasn't I?"

"Do you remember much since the night before last, Bill?"

Bill scrunched his eyebrows together, trying to focus and concentrate on an answer. He began counting on his finger tips, as if going through a list of memories.

"Yeah, I remember, a big thingie fell on my head! And then... and then... it knocked me out!"

Ralph laughed at the expression on Bill's face. Then Bill's expression changed dramatically, from comical to tragic.

"No, WAIT, I didn't just get knocked out, I DIED!"

The doctor chose that moment to return, and heard Bill's exclamation.

Ralph and the doctor looked at one another, then at Bill.

Bill was still rambling about his memories of the previous two days and nights.

"No, no, I remember, Ralph!" he mumbled, not too clearly, but as he was gaining momentum, his speech and memories were becoming alarmingly lucid.

"I was yelling at Villicana, because he was about to pull the door to the fourth dimension open, and I was running to him, and WHAM! this blast of pain and white light, then nothingness."

"Um, Bill, I think you've been reading too many horror stories before bed at night," Ralph said, hoping Bill would get the clue from the tone of voice. Bill didn't; he was too far gone to notice or care.

"It was weird, like I was floating above myself, above you, above the kids, looking down. I saw you, Ralph, you were sitting on me. Why were you sitting on me, Ralph?"

"I, uh... I was worried, Bill, we couldn't find a pulse. I was giving you CPR."

"You WERE? Wow, that's great, thanks, Ralph. Any way, it was so strange, like I was watching a movie in slow motion or something. Then...then I felt this kind of tickling sensation, in my head, in my BRAIN, and next thing I know I'm back in my body, and you're sitting on me."

All this time, the doctor was looking between the two. He'd heard of such near-death experiences before, had heard them described in the same fashion. A floating, looking down, slow motion as in a movie. Maybe this guy was legit and really HAD "died" for a few seconds, or at least his heart had stopped. Obviously his brain hadn't died, or he wouldn't be there now, talking and breathing.

"Hmmmm," the doctor opined, shaking his head. "Mr. Maxwell, how about we finish this examination, get you to X-ray, get a cast on you, and you and your little friend here can share the big story somewhere else?"

Ralph was glad the doctor chose to interrupt then, because he knew that the next thing that happened with Bill was Sheila's blue eyes looking up at him and the kids.

"Yeah, Bill, let's talk about this later, okay? I'll wait out here so the doctor can finish with you."

Ralph was hoping his absence would shut Bill up; he knew Bill disliked this doctor, and was sure he wouldn't want to shoot the breeze with him. He was right.

As is typical with emergency rooms, it was a couple of hours before Ralph saw Bill again. He was wheeled out to the check-out station, given some pain medications and turned over to Ralph.

"You'll drive him home, sir?" the discharge nurse asked.

"Yes, I'll see to him, Nurse, thank you," Ralph said, helping Bill stand to walk out.

"Very well, you two have a good day," she smiled as the two men slowly exited.

By the time Ralph got Bill home safely to bed and tucked him in, Bill was coming down from the powerful pain medication. At least until the next bout of pain returned, and he took some of the tablets.

Ralph had to push Bill back down on the bed.

"My gun, Ralph, where's my gun?" Bill demanded.

"Um, Bill... I'm not too sure you should have your gun right now, in the state you're in."

"What! Of course I should, I always have it within arm's reach, you know that."

Bill tried again to rise, to retrieve his holster and gun.

"RALPH, come ON! I need my gun! I NEED it!" Bill was getting angry, trying in vain to sit up.

"No, you DON'T, Bill!"

"Ralph, she... she might come BACK! I need my gun, I need to protect myself, Ralph, please, please..."

His pleading pained Ralph, but by this point, Ralph was convinced that the worst thing to do then was to give Bill his firearm.

"Bill, she's GONE, as gone as that house she was chained to, that she commited herself to when she murdered that sweet old lady. She's as demolished as the house. Don't you remember? The wrecking crew was there this morning, that house is a pile of rubble, and Sheila's spirit along with it. She's gone, gone to oblivion or Hell or wherever murderers go."

Bill seemed to calm down somewhat. "You sure?"

"VERY sure, the psychic I went to for help told me. She's the one who told me how I had to save you, Bill, and she was RIGHT! It worked, you're you again, Sheila's gone."

His friend relaxed more, sagging back onto his pillows and clutching the light blanket Ralph had thrown on him.

"All right, partner, if you're sure, I believe you. But I still want my gun, you know I always have it nearby."

"Bill, I'll make a deal with you. I'll stay here with you for a while, so you can sleep. See? I've got the suit on. Nothing's going to hurt you. I'm here to protect you."

Bill smiled, finally convinced, and as he let his guard down, the exhaustion returned full-force.

"'kay, Ralphie, 'kay, I trust you. You're my partner and you've got my back."

"That's right. Now, go to sleep, sleep as long as you possibly can. I've got a briefcase full of homework in the car. I can work on that, or watch TV, till you get up."

Seconds later, Bill was snoring loudly, his head thrown back and his mouth agape. Ralph stood and smiled down at his best friend, patted him on the shoulder and went to the living area.

He dug out the phone number Rhonda had given him for Edith, her hairdresser and psychic, and picked up the phone. He needed to get Bill some help, and Edith was the only other person who knew the whole story.

Ralph was hoping she could help him and Bill one more time. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two.

"Ralph, I'm not too sure about this," Bill told his friend as they approached Edith's front door. Ralph had called the psychic to see if he and Bill could come over and talk to her about the whole experience. Ralph thought it'd help Bill if he had someone he could talk to about it, someone who knew the whole story and wouldn't make judgements on him.

"C'mon, Bill, it'll do you good, to talk about it with someone who'll understand."

Ralph tapped on the door.

"And you said she knows the whole deal? Not about the suit, of course."

"No, no, we didn't go into HOW I broke through that first time," Ralph said as they waited. "I told her I couldn't tell her much, so she might be curious and ask you. Be honest and simply tell her you can't tell her."

The woman opened the door and smiled, motioning for them to come in.

"Ralph, I'm glad you called, I'm dying to hear how it all went." She looked intently at Bill, first into his dark eyes then up and down, noting the broken arm in its sling.

"Did the Beast do that, Bill?" she asked quietly, awe coloring her whisper.

Bill smiled down at her, deciding he liked this woman almost immediately. She had a calmness and strength about her that he could sense.

"No, busting through a brick wall did it to me. I TOLD Ralph we couldn't DO that!"

She indicated that they should sit, and she sat opposite them. "Hmmm, I guess I'm not supposed to ask, am I?"

The two men looked at each other, startled, wondering how she knew that.

She smirked back at them. "I AM psychic, you know!"

Bill chuckled, "Yeah, well, I don't believe in that stuff, and..."

He paused, realizing how that sounded, in light of what he'd gone through. Jeesh, the suit, green guys, now breaking through solid brick walls where some scary critter lived. He was starting to doubt anything he'd believed all these years was true.

"All right, granted, what happened to me is beginning to make me examine stuff I've believed since forever. But any way, that aside, Ralph thought it'd be a good idea to talk to someone about this, just to get it off my chest."

"Yes, Bill, you need to heal."

"Do you need to do anything? Hypnotize me or something? I might have a problem with that, being a Fed and all."

"No, no, let's relax and chat, old friends and all. And don't hold back, thinking I might not believe or laugh at you. Trust me, I've heard some remarkable things in this lifetime."

Bill mumbled, "'This lifetime,' yeah."

Edith stood to go to the tea service she'd set out and began preparing three cups. "If it helps any, Bill, think of it as a counseling session. I'm a licensed counselor in the state of California. Think of me that way, not as a wacky psychic who knows some pretty avant-garde information about the supernatural."

She brought the three cups, handing each of the men one.

Ralph and Bill sniffed, and looked at one another.

"It's a recipe handed down from my mother, and her mother before her, for generations."

Neither man sipped the hot liquid.

Bill couldn't help but sniff it suspiciously again, looking up at her from the brim of the delicate little cup.

Edith sensed his concern. "No, Bill, there's nothing illegal in there, no opiates or narcotics or anything. Simply herbs I can pick along the side of the road, or out in the desert when I make a trip out there to collect stuff."

She sipped her own beverage, to show them there was nothing untoward going on. She indicated with her cup for the men to do the same.

They each took a tentative sip and decided they liked the earthy flavor, reminiscent of cinnamon and something else they couldn't identify.

"It'll relax you, open you up psychically." She didn't miss their doubting expressions, and laughed. "Trust me, okay? Ralph, you trusted me to give you the information you needed to help Bill, and it worked, right?"

"Yes, that's true, that's why we sought you out again."

"Okay, sip that and we'll relax and open up and simply talk."

The three silently sipped on their tea, each lost in his or her own thoughts, for about five minutes. Sure enough, Ralph and Bill both felt the effects, an almost warming type of feel in their brains.

"And you're sure there're no narcotics or opiates in this?" Bill asked again, enjoying the relaxing sensation on top of his pain medication.

"Nary a one."

"Hmmm, I'm gettin' kinda light-headed, from this and the pain meds."

"I figured you'd be on some type of pain medication, for your arm, which is why I chose this formula, not another one that's a bit stronger. You'll be fine."

Bill was quiet as he continued to sip the cooling tea. The openness he was feeling was pleasant, in its own way, but soon thoughts and memories began to flood to the surface.

Ralph, sensing something was wrong, looked at his best friend.

"Bill?"

As if a dam had burst, Bill almost slammed his cup down and put his head in his hands, and began shaking. It took a moment for Ralph to realize Bill was sobbing.

"Bill?" he asked again, alarmed at seeing his friend in such a state. He'd NEVER seen Bill like this, even when they'd first met and Bill had seen his dead partner John, walking and talking. Bill had been scared to death then, but had maintained. At least till he'd found a bottle of whiskey, to try to forget the experience.

Bill looked up, gazing into Ralph's blue eyes, unashamed of what he was doing. That was some powerful tea, a small, cognizant part of his mind told him.

"WHY, Ralph? Why did she do this to ME? I...I don't know why she did this, why she tried to take me, tried to push me out of my own mind, my own body! She had no RIGHT!"

Edith sat still, watching the two friends. Seeing them interact would give her an idea of their connection, their dynamic. Ralph was obviously very distressed at seeing Bill in this state, but he wasn't shying away from him; on the contrary, he was straining to do what he could to offer comfort to the older man.

"Bill, we don't know why. From what the real estate agent told me, Sheila Redman was pushy, self-centered and wanted everything her way, right now! And when the old woman wouldn't give in to her demands to sell the estate to her, she murdered her! She was EVIL, Bill, and you were the most likely target after that chandelier fell on you and you "died" for a quick second. Edith here said that's all it would take for a spirit to move in as she did."

"I...I know, Ralph. I...I was VIOLATED, mind raped! I don't know if I'll ever get that sensation out of my brain!"

Edith spoke up in a soft, soothing voice. "Bill, that's the crux of all this. Technically, you WERE raped, not physically, but psychically, spiritually."

Her voice took on a firmer, stronger tone. "Bill, remember this though: YOU WON. That's the important thing. Between you and Ralph, you WON over her evilness, and now she's where she belongs, and she's gone from you. Don't let her continue a hold on you like this, don't let her win in the end by letting this ruin your life."

"Yes, Bill, listen to Edith, she's right. You WON in the end! You were the stronger, you prevailed, and she didn't."

Bill drew in a shuddering breath, shook his shoulders and broke himself out of the self-pity he was indulging in. They were right. He was Bill Maxwell, after all! He'd gone through a lot in his long years, from getting wounded in Korea to facing the green guys. He wasn't going to let some evil bitch bring him down after all he'd been through in his life.

"You're right, I was stronger. Too strong for her."

"Yes!"

"Even..." and he paused, wondering how he'd say this without coming off sounding weird. "Ralph, remember when I called you, and said I knew you were trying to find me?"

"Yeah, I was pretty surprised that I happened to be there when you called."

"I...I KNEW you were there, Ralph, somehow I knew. Up until then, Sheila and I had been fighting, back and forth, neither of us 'winning' control of my body. Hadn't slept, hadn't eaten. It was a fulltime all-out effort. I was doing my damnedest to keep her so distracted that she couldn't do anything, couldn't get her stuff from the safe deposit box and make tracks away from you. SHE knew you'd be able to stop her, from reading it in my mind."

Bill paused, until Ralph had to say something.

"And?"

"I had this sense that you were holographing on me."

Ralph was startled to hear Bill mention one of the suit's powers, and glanced at Edith.

"Ralph, I know you two are keeping something from me, and I assume holographing is part of it."

"It's, uh...it's a way Bill and I can 'see' things."

"Ah, like scrying."

The two men looked at her, unfamiliar with the term.

"Mirror-gazing, crystal ball, that stuff?"

"Oh, yeah, actually that's a LOT like it!"

"Excellent. So we do have some commonality after all." She motioned to Bill to continue.

"Sometimes I'd win over and regain control. Like when Sheila first moved into me. She was there, 'on top' as it were, that's how it felt, for a quick second. Ralph said that's when my eyes looked BLUE of all things! She hadn't learned what to do, so as I came closer to consciousness, I pushed her back. I felt her there, though, like a niggling thought you have in your brain, that you just barely can't bring to consciousness. So when we went to the hospital, it was me."

He ran his hand through his hair, pondering what it had felt like for Sheila to wrangle control once more.

"I never knew what would trigger it, but if something distracted me even for a microsecond, I was gone and she'd take over. Same thing with her: if I pushed and pushed and she got distracted, it was me. I 'came to' after the hospital in a parking lot, not knowing where I was or what was happening to me."

He looked at Ralph.

"Ralph, I found my gun in my coat pocket, not my holster like it was supposed to be. And it was cocked. She threatened you, didn't she?"

Ralph nodded, "Yes, Bill, she did."

Bill smiled. "I thought so. Did you know she was going to shoot you?"

"What? I thought she just wanted to wave it around, get me to back off, and escape out of there!"

"Nope. She was 'in control' but not so much that I couldn't stop her. I'm remembering it more now that I'm consciously thinking about it."

Edith finally had to say something.

"Bill, how about we do this: let's start from the beginning. Start wherever you want, but let's hear the sequence. It'll help cement it in your mind, in your memories, so you can see the progress of how you ultimately prevailed against this evil spirit."

"Yes, Bill, we're jumping around too much."

"All right, gimme another cup of that tea, and I'll begin."

(A/N: Chapter Three will be Bill's tale of the incident, but I'm going to do it in third person. I learned from an earlier fic that I don't really like writing first person much.) 


	3. Chapter 3

(A/N: I don't know how I'm going to show thinking as opposed to spoken dialogue, but it should be pretty obvious.)

Chapter Three.

Bill felt a tickling sensation, as if it was under his skull, and he twitched in response, his right hand snapping up and back and forth for a second.

He also felt pressure over his upper thighs, and a hand reached under his neck, fingers pressing against his carotid artery.

Hmmmm? Bill wondered, confused about why he was lying horizontally.

He felt a SNAP! as if in his head, like the tickling, and it seemed as if he was standing in a corner, watching a show. He saw Ralph's shocked and joyous expression looking down at him, then a wave of confusion passed over his younger friend's face.

"Bill?" Ralph asked quietly. "Bill, you all right? Your eyes! What's wrong with your eyes?"

My eyes?

He tried to speak, but couldn't. How do you consciously focus on something you've done since toddlerhood?

He attempted to again. And again. He couldn't articulate anything, couldn't tell Ralph to get the hell off of him.

Pain, pressure, blackness, and he was gone.

With no sense of time elapsing, he felt Ralph again.

Bill moaned, opening his eyes and looking around in confusion.

The first thing he saw was Ralph, almost nose-to-nose with him. He pushed down into his pillow, wondering why his best friend and partner was hovering over him so.

"Bill, your eyes! They're brown!"

What the hell?

"I have brown eyes. Although my mommy says hazel. What's wrong with you, Ralph? Get off me!"

That damned doctor is trying to keep me here, Bill thought, but I ain't havin' it.

That pressure, that sense of unease was still there. Bill wanted to say something to Ralph about it, but couldn't form the words.

Staggering, confused and weak, to the hospital chair, Bill started the long, arduous process of changing from the hospital gown to his street clothes. He was okay, he kept trying to convince himself. I'm okay, you're okay, we're all okay, he recited in his brain, trying to clarify that dark heavy feeling in his head.

"Your shirt, Bill?"

He whipped the black polo shirt out from under himself. "I knew that."

His back turned to Ralph and the doctor, Bill took his shirt, ready to throw it over his head. A wave of pain and blackness swept over him, and he fell against the railing for support. The voices of the other two men became a roaring sound, and he felt like he was going to faint. His point of view turned into a long, drawn-out tunnel and he clung to the railing.

Bill felt a PUSH in his head, as if being shoved into an ethereal corner; whenever he tried to "come forward" again, a stabbing pain would tear through him.

STOP came a voice in his head.

What?

What's that brat saying, came the thought. It had a distinct feminine feel to it, something that so confused Bill he didn't know what to think or feel. Feminine? How can I have a feminine feel to anything?

"Conversation's overwith, kid," Bill felt his mouth saying, but that voice! Where was THAT coming from? Him? It sounded GIRLIE! "What happened to my gun?"

"I got it right here, in my jacket. But hear me out a minute, okay? I mean, uh, that was a solid-brass chandelier that came down on you. It smacked you right in the head. For a minute there, we all kinda thought you were dead. Then something else, something really strange happened. When you were first coming around, when you opened your eyes, for the first time, for a split second, I swear your eyes had turned ice blue!"

Ralph was chattering away as he watched Bill finish getting dressed, tucking in his shirt and strapping on his shoulder holster and gun.

Oh, that's why he looked confused when I came to, Bill thought.

Shut it! came the feminine voice again.

What the hell?

Listen, Maxwell, it's mine now. You're done. Give it to me, and we'll both be fine.

Give WHAT to you? What the hell is going ON?

He felt himself turn to face Ralph, his eyes flying open wide, his eyebrows shooting up. How the hell can I be feeling this, doing this, and I'm sitting in my black corner over here?

Ralph was gaping at him, too stunned to speak.

What's he looking at? Bill wondered.

"Who...who ARE you?" Ralph finally managed to utter.

"Get out of the way," said that weirdly feminine voice out of his own mouth.

"Whoever you are, let him go," Ralph demanded, obviously scared but trying to sound firm.

Before Bill knew it, his own gun was in his hand, cocked and pointed at Ralph.

NO! he screamed inside his mind, preventing whomever this occupant was from shooting Ralph at point-blank range.

He pushed again when he felt this creature try to pull the trigger again.

All right, all right, calm down! I won't shoot your precious little boy! came the voice. It'd only bring the cops after me any way.

Who ARE you? Bill repeated Ralph's question.

Shut up.

Aloud, "Bill" said, "Just one through the... pump? Real easy. And I mention, he's a very good shot."

Ralph stood still, frozen with terror, as he looked down the barrel of his best friend's gun. He'd never felt so vulnerable in his life, never ached to have the protection of his silly red suit as much as that second. He had no choice but to back away.

"Bill" nodded. "Good decision." He moved to the door, and looked back. "Don't follow me. If you do, he'll kill you. I'll see to it."

NEVER! Bill screamed in his mind, pushing against the black barrier that seemed to be separating him from his own body.

Oh, do be quiet, came the voice again. Bill felt a mental SLAP and the sensation of falling back, collapsing. He blacked out again.

When Bill became conscious of his surroundings, still sitting in his little black corner, he realized it was night time.

How long was I out? he wondered.

Not long enough, came the voice.

"They" were driving, and the sign on the exit said Century City.

Look, bitch, I don't know who you are or what you are, but get the hell out of here, this is MINE!

NO, it's my turn!

The two went back and forth, and she finally screamed at him, in his mind, I'm DRIVING, do you want to kill this body?

Bill relented and stopped pushing against that barrier. It wasn't so "solid" that he couldn't make it give way, but it took tremendous effort to get it to budge.

Somehow Bill instinctively knew he could probe this creature, this spirit, and began to send out mental "feelers." He felt a mental slap strike him down again.

STOP THAT! Nosy!

All right, bitch, I'm pissed now. Who are you, why are you in my mind? HOW are you in my mind?

He didn't feel a response at first.

Seems I'm not the first one in here, Billy boy, she "laughed."

A sense of panic swept over Bill and he felt a part of himself shut down, pulling back from her. Ralph. She can sense my memories of Ralph and the suit, just like I can sense her memories.

Hmmmm, Ralphie, the suit, the green guys. You've led a fascinating past few months, Billy.

Don't call me that! Only my FRIENDS can call me Billy!

Oh, Billy, we'll be friends now, for sure. Until I can find the way to drive you out completely. We'll be taking a little trip to a shaman in Central America, you and I.

The HELL we are! and Bill summoned all his strength of will, and blasted through that barrier, consigning this creature to a dark corner of her own.

When he gained conscious control of his body and his mind, he looked around, confused again. He was sitting in a Mercedes of all things, in a parking lot. Century City, yeah.

He reached into his jacket pocket and was surprised to feel the cold metal of his firearm.

Hmmmm? What's this doing in here? He pulled it out, noted it was cocked and primed to fire, and uncocked it. He stared at it, as if trying to recall why it was in his pocket, not the holster. He retrieved his FBI badge and ID, gazing at the photograph of himself, and at his name.

William Maxwell, Special Agent, FBI.

YES! That's who I am! That's ME, bitch, not YOU! That's MY picture on that ID!

Central America. He had to find Ralph before whatever or whomever this was took over his body again.

Bill knew where to begin looking. 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four.

Bill tapped into Sheila's mind for where he had to go. He'd found out that was her name, Sheila Redman, and found out how she'd gotten into the house, into that room Ralph said he saw through the fourth dimension.

It's your turn now to sit back and watch, he scoffed at her. He was feeling cocky and confident now that he'd bitch-slapped her into submission.

A wave of anger and frustration came to him from her "corner."

Now, none of that, he "laughed" inside his head. We're going home to your apartment. Let's see what we can find there, shall we?

Bill knew Ralph was after "them," knew his best friend and partner was doing everything he possibly could to find him, to help him.

Sheila manifested herself enough to "talk" to him once more.

He isn't either, he doesn't care! Did you see that look on his face! He's scared to death of you, he knows you'll shoot him if he follows you!

Nope.

Bill picked up the phone and dialed his own phone number, confident Ralph would be at the other end.

"Hello?" Bill heard Ralph say on the other end.

NOOOO! Sheila "screamed" in Bill's head.

TOLD you, bitch!

"Ralph?"

"Bill, are you all right? How did you know where to find me?"

"Well, we're partners, aren't we? You were trying to find me, weren't you? Right, Ralph? C'mon, wake up."

Ralph hesitated a moment. "Yeah, yeah, Bill, that's right, I am."

Bill continued. "So, you're at my place, you're wearing my old fishing hat or something or other, and you're trying to holograph in on me. Well, scratch that, because I'm in Century City in her apartment and..."

A wave of sickness and blackness washed over Bill once more, as Sheila realized Bill might actually succeed in getting Ralph to "them." She knew if Ralph came, it might all be overwith.

Ralph heard the gagging sound. "Bill! Bill, are you all right?"

Bill fought back violently, calling on spiritual reserves he didn't realize he had. He needed to do this, it was his only chance to contact Ralph before Sheila made good on her Central America threat.

"Penthouse!" he managed to squeeze out. "You gotta get over here quick, kid, I'm driving around in a dark blue four door..."

STOP IT! he felt Sheila screech at him, as her efforts to push past the black barrier began to make the wall he'd put around her crumble.

Bill could sense there wasn't much more time.

"OH! I don't know what's going on, I don't know what's happening to me! You gotta help me! You gotta..."

Just prior to being shoved away once more, Bill heard Ralph yell, "I will, Bill, I know just what to do. Now, what is the address?"

There was a pause, and Ralph was wondering if they'd somehow been disconnected.

A chill ran up and down his spine when he heard that creepy feminine voice, after hearing Bill's deeper voice moments before.

"It's all right, Ralph, Bill's just fine. He's having a little problem adjusting to me, that's all. Bye bye."

And Bill was gone.

HA! Sheila crowed in Bill's "direction," knowing he was seething because she'd triumphed once more. She sent out her own mental feelers, wanting to gloat in her victory, but she didn't encounter defeat and submission.

What? she wondered, confused.

She barely felt Bill there. He was relaxed, calm, and not fighting her in the least.

Giving up so soon, since your little boyfriend isn't here?

A sense of amusement emanated from Bill.

Oh, no, I'll kick back here and bide my time now. I'm done fighting with you.

Good.

He didn't reply, merely kept that amused "feel" to his mind, his spirit. That only served to annoy Sheila.

Look, asshole, he can't help you! Nobody can! Accept it, we'll take our little jaunt to Central America, and you'll be gone from here for good. Kinda weird being in a man's body, but I'm sure I'll get used to it.

Laughter was all she got from Bill.

He's already on his way, bitch! Check it out, probe my mind, my memories. You'll see. He said he knows how he can help me, you KNOW he can find me using the suit. It's only a matter of time. WE'VE won, Ralphie and me, NOT you, you rotten skanky hag!

NO! I'll shoot him, like I promised I would!

He'll have the SUIT on, you moron! Hell, woman, he was practically point-blank when a nuke went off, and it didn't even phase him. Do you think a BULLET will? Ha, you're SCREWED!

His cockiness and confidence in his best friend was beginning to erode her grasp on him.

No, you're wrong. Now, shut up and let me get some last-minute things done.

Bill "sat back" once more, as Sheila moved his body around the apartment. She poured herself a small glass of sherry and sipped on it.

That's GROSS! he opined, whittling away at her again, wasting time till he knew Ralph would be there.

And he would be. He knew it, he sensed it.

What? came Sheila's startled thought as she, too, sensed Ralph through Bill. She suddenly felt an urge to peer through the curtain of the window facing some ugly buildings.

And there he was.

TOLD YOU! Bill cried victoriously. Didn't I? DIDN'T I?

And before Sheila could even think, she saw a streak of red coming at her, like an arrow, and Ralph crashed through the window, landing on "her" and holding Bill's arm down. The arm that was holding his gun.

"Bill, Bill, you're going back! I don't like it any more than you do, but you're going back!" Ralph said, holding Bill to him.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Sheila screamed through Bill's mouth, while Bill was laughing his mental "ass" off.

Now that Bill knew Ralph was handling the situation, he could let his guard down more. The effects of the sherry on his exhausted and hungry body did him in, and he fell asleep, as did Sheila.

They both slept until Ralph roughly shook Bill's shoulder.

"Bill! You all right?"

Bill was kicking back, letting Sheila run the show.

He'll know it's not me, bitch.

No he won't. I'm in full control now, it's only a matter of time. Got the eye and voice problems worked out too! Ha!

"Huh? Yeah. How long I been asleep?" Sheila asked in Bill's voice.

"I don't know. C'mon, get up." Ralph got out of the car and went around to help the hand-cuffed body of Bill Maxwell out of the car.

"Ah, oh boy. Listen, these smart, they're a little tight, Ralph."

"Yeah, well, they're your cuffs. I'm sorry I had to use them."

Sheila told Bill to shut up when she felt his laughter.

"Oh, no, that's a good command decision, kid. So, you learned a coupla tricks from the old geezer, huh? No, you were right, we've gotta get rid of this chick."

Ralph took Bill's body by the jacket and yanked him standing.

HA! Bill echoed Sheila's mental laugh. Now you've done it, I wouldn't say that!

"Chick?"

"Yeah, she's a tough customer."

You wish, Bill interjected.

"Bill, you've never used 'chick' in your entire life," Ralph pointed out suspiciously.

Bill could feel Sheila was panicking, trying to recover from her little faux pas.

"Well, chick, or dame, uh whatever. She was the one who killed the old lady."

"Miss Burrows?"

"Yeah, pushed her down a flight of stairs, right in there. Snuffed her, are you ready for that? Just because she was holding out on her on this big real estate deal."

Now you've done it, stupid, Bill said.

"How could you possibly know that, Bill, huh?"

Ralph's suspicious gaze increased as "Bill" fumbled to recover. "How do I know that I know? I just know it, who cares, any way? C'mon, get these off. Ralph, this is me, remember? Maxwell!"

"Yeah? For how long?"

"All right, look, I...I..we went the full fifteen rounds, and I was on the ropes a coupla times, but I won! The TKO, my decision! Come on, now, get real will ya, get these off now."

The two men looked at one another a moment.

"Bill" said, "I want to go home and shave! I can't shave this way!"

I want to go home and SHAVE? Bill asked incredulously, and Sheila felt him "laughing" uproariously in his mind. You've totally blown your cover now, you sound like a damned SISSY!

"I can't, Bill," Ralph said solemnly, now convinced this was not Bill Maxwell he was talking to.

"What do you mean, you can't?"

Ralph turned and pointed to the house. "We're going back into that house."

And with that, despite "Bill's" protests, Ralph flung the body of his best friend over his shoulder and silently walked to the front door, ignoring the pleas to stop from "Bill."

When Sheila was convinced that pretending to be Bill wasn't going to do it, she stopped making the effort to control eyes and voice.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" she screamed once more, as she had when Ralph tackled her in her apartment.

Ralph carried Bill's body to the sliding door that led to the fourth dimensional rift and roughly dumped him onto a dusty old easy chair.

Sheila tried another tack, trying to scare Ralph from attempting this. He'd faced the Beast once already, right? Scared him to death! Maybe it'll scare him out of his desire to help his best friend.

NEVER! screamed Bill. He'd go to Hell and back for me, like I would for him!

HA! You wish! Nobody would do that, after all's said and done, and he won't either!

Just because YOU'VE never had a friend like Ralph, doesn't mean others don't. You're too self-centered and obnoxious to ever have a friend like I do!

Sheila mocked Ralph through Bill's mouth. "You can't do it inside, suit's no good! You're going to DIE!"

It irked her that she didn't get any response from Ralph, yea or nay. He simply went to them, flung Bill's body over his shoulder once more, took a deep breath and plunged through the wall.

The terror and blackness swept over Sheila, as she realized she was now completely helpless and at Ralph's mercy, and the two of them blacked out completely. Her last aware thought, while in a body, was the sickening feeling that Bill had been right, that Ralph WAS going to save him. And he was being proved right.

Bill blacked out when Sheila did, so was spared the agony of the thrashing and tearing of the Beast as Ralph ran through as fast as he could with his burden. He was spared seeing Ralph throw himself between Bill and the Beast, as the monster tore and slashed at his best friend.

He was denied the pleasure of seeing Sheila's spirit, in a human woman form, being ejected forcefully once they were on the "other side."

Bill didn't come to consciousness until in another blast of white searing pain, he and Ralph were tumbling away from the solid brick wall. Bill yelped when he felt the bone in his arm snap like a twig, and he careened into the same easy chair Ralph had set him in only moments before.

Soon after Bill exclaimed that he'd TOLD Ralph they couldn't go through a brick wall, and that his arm was broken, he passed out from the pain, blissfully aware as he went out that it was him, and him alone, in his brain. Oh, and Ralph too. Sometimes.

But that was okay.

Fin. 


End file.
